“Bear what? Bear what? What do you want me to do!”
“To tell them the truth.” She flung her head back and fastened imploring eyes on his. “Let them know that you took it. Oh, Léon, it is true.”
“Tell them!” He started back as if he had touched hot iron. Then he laughed. “Certainly this affair has turned your head.”
She pressed her words.
“It is the only noble, straightforward way, and all that you can do to atone. Shelter yourself behind the truth; it will not fail you. Then you can face the worst.”
Muttering, “She is mad!” Léon pushed her from him. “Do you in the least understand what you are suggesting? It means that I should have to plead guilty. How could I ever prove that the money was repaid? You want to ruin me.”
“You will be clear to your own soul, dearest—to your own soul, and to God.”
“What, you mean it? You see where it leads, and yet mean it! You must suppose you are talking to some little bourgeois instead of to a De Beaudrillart!” he cried, scornfully. “We are not used to bear disgrace tamely. There are other ways of avoiding it.”
She clasped him in her arms, terror clutching her heart. “Léon, Léon, not that! Promise me!”
His moods, always variable, now ran up and down the scale of emotion.